


Fragility

by KirraWhiteTigress



Series: The Offer [2]
Category: Doctor Who (2005), Wicked - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-27 05:10:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16696045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KirraWhiteTigress/pseuds/KirraWhiteTigress
Summary: "Somehow she had this nagging feeling that the Doctor already knew what her question was. Additionally, she wasn’t sure if she herself wanted to ask the question that had been tugging at the tip of her tongue since the moment the Doctor had reappeared in her life. It would make everything far too real if she did. Already she was convinced that she had fallen back into a dream. She didn’t want to wake up yet."Continuation of The Offer





	Fragility

**Author's Note:**

> Even though I posted the first part, like, a day ago, this second part has been itching at my brain for the better part of two years. I'm hoping I can get another part out - preferably before the end of this year instead of 2024 - but I'm glad I was able to get something out there, you know?

“You said that this thing could travel through time and space.” Glinda’s fingers traced the delicate mechanisms of the TARDIS’s console; to her amazement, she thought she could feel it _purring_. “How can it do that?”

“You’re asking me that now?” the Doctor asked. Her eyebrow arched upwards both questioningly and in amusement. “I literally showed up on your front doorstep.”

“And scared the daylights out of my guards – I’m aware.”

“So what’s your real question?”

Glinda hesitated. She didn’t look at the Doctor. Somehow she had this nagging feeling that the Doctor already knew what her question was. Additionally, she wasn’t sure if she herself wanted to ask the question that had been tugging at the tip of her tongue since the moment the Doctor had reappeared in her life. It would make everything far too real if she did. Already she was convinced that she had fallen back into a dream. She didn’t want to wake up yet.

The Doctor had been still and silent for far too long. Where was her constant rattling, the sheer kinetic energy that vibrated in the space around her? Glinda honed her attention on the dials at her fingertips. Maybe if she was silent as well, someone else would spring into action and break the tension that had formed between them.

“Your Goodness.”

“Don’t.” It came out more as a plea than an order. Glinda bit her lip, blushing. “Don’t call me that here.”

“Fine, then. _Glinda_ ,” the Doctor tried again, somewhat satisfied with her attempt to get the Ozian to speak. “Where do you want to go? We can be there in an instant. All you have to say is – “

“If the TARDIS can go back in time,” Glinda blurted out at last, the question bottled up for far too long that it was ready to explode and consume her, “then I would like to go back.”

The Doctor tensed. “Back?” she echoed. “To where?”

“To when I lost her.” Those words came out in barely a whisper. And then she sucked in a sharp breath as if that action would take them back. But they were already out, burning in the silence and cutting at her heart like tiny papercuts. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She blinked them back. Glinda hadn’t shed a tear since that day; she refused to do so now. “I need to go back to when Elphaba died.”

“Absolutely not.”

Glinda whipped around to face the Doctor. Gone was the woman who had spun poetry about the infinite reaches of the galaxy, who practically sang about creatures beyond Glinda’s wildest imagination, who flitted about the TARDIS like a Hummingbird at the very idea of _exploration_. Gone was the tender gaze and electrifying grin of the Time Lord that Glinda had come to admire in such a short amount of time. Instead she was met with a coldness that froze her heart at the very sight of it.

The Doctor had a wicked side, it seemed.

Glinda stepped away from the TARDIS’s console. Her heart raced at the sight of the fury being directed at her. “I don’t understand,” she stammered. “You said this thing could go anywhere.”

“It can.”

“So why is my history off the table?”

“Glinda –“

“The possibilities of her still being alive are slim to none,” the Ozian interrupted, “and the chances of her coming back to me, if she was alive, are even slimmer. So why can’t I go back to save her? Why can’t I do _something_ for once?”

“Because it’s a fixed point.”

“I could fix everything!”

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” the Doctor spat. She strode over to the console, closer to Glinda; when Glinda stumbled away from her, that only made the fire in her green eyes burn even hotter. “Besides,” the Doctor continued, “you’d only ruin what you have, even if you could change things.”

“Don’t you dare - !”

“Her death was for the best. Fixed points can’t be altered. Elphaba’s dead – _accept it_.”

With every word the Doctor fired at her, Glinda felt as if a physical blow was dealt to her. No – a physical blow would be a mercy in comparison. Her body began to tremble, her resolve slowly cracking until –

“Take me home. _Now._ ”

This seemed to snap the Doctor back to her senses. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it, then opened it again, trying to figure out which words would best rectify the damage that she had inflicted. But there was nothing left to say between them, and she seemed to accept that notion at last. Her gaze went to the center console. A flip of a switch made the TARDIS whir loudly as it sprung into action.

They didn’t acknowledge each other’s presence for the rest of their time together.

-!-

“I leave you two alone so that you could actually talk things out,” the Doctor – the real one – said as he toyed with the bow tie around his neck. “Just… _talk_. And you did _what_?”

“I didn’t expect her to say what she did, alright?” Elphaba barked. “You can’t pin this on me!”

“Humans,” the Doctor groaned to himself, lifting his gaze to the ceiling in his annoyance. He ran a hand through his hair, as if the problem was in it and he could physically untangle a solution. “Elphaba, I know that what happened in Kiamo Ko is a sore subject for you.”

“Understatement of the century.”

“But her wishes are reasonable. And while you think you would be ruining her life by revealing yourself, you couldn’t be farther from the truth. She misses you, Elphaba! Why would she want to change her own history to be with you again if she didn’t miss you?”

Elphaba shrugged. “Self-sabotage?” she offered. But the Doctor’s point was made. She had behaved foolishly, and she only had herself to blame for any burned bridges. As usual. She sighed heavily, leaning against one of the buttresses that decorated the command center. “So how do I fix this? _Can_ I fix this?”

The Doctor grinned at this. “Oh, you’re going to fix this, alright,” he said. “But I’m helping this time.”

“Wait, Doctor –“

“And you’re not using a perception filter.”


End file.
